He's Dead
by arabellagaleotti
Summary: He shuddered silently and his arms went limp, I looked up. His face was droopy, eyes lifeless. A killing curse must have rebounded off a mirror, it would have been quick, painless. He wouldn't have felt a thing. I know he'll be waiting. So am I, in a way. Dramione, Oneshot. REVIEWS APPRECIATED!


**HERMIONE'S POV:**

I sprinted down a 5th floor hallway, my breath coming in ragged, burning pants. I was meant to meet Tonks here, but I was late, got held up on the 3rd floor.

I flew around a corner, coming to sudden stop when glimpsing the boy standing there. His hair was too bright surrounded by the grey of war. I froze, unable to move, we were both caught in a web of disbelief.

He looked different, hardened. His face was sharper, his cheekbones more defined. He looked pale and shaky and horribly hell-ridden.

His lips barely moved when he spoke. "Hermione?" The word ghosted across the space between us, the web was broken. I barely smiled, sucking a breath of air into my lungs. I stumbled forward, he did the same, admittedly with much more grace. I put that down to his long legs.

When I finally reached him everything felt right, like the world clicked into place. I cupped his face in my hands, the sound and sights of battle blurred and muted. A tear squeezed it's way down my cheek, working though the grime, dust and blood gathered there. He wiped it away with his thumb, the facade of hate and cruelty on his face disappearing as I watched.

"Draco," I breathed out, "Oh Draco." He melted, a rare smile forming on his face. "What have they done to you?"

"What have you done to me?" He said roughly. We kissed and it's everything I missed so much. I could taste the fire-whiskey and hear ballroom music and whispered words of French. When we broke apart the world has gone silent. I laughed lightly, feeling his breath ghost along my skin.

"I've missed you so damn much." I sobbed, I missed his warmth, his smell, his _everything_. He hugged me tight, I relaxed under his protection. I've waited so long for this, and now it was happening I can't believe that it's true. I wanted to pinch myself, but that would break his hold, and I never wanted to lose him again.

Then he shuddered silently and his arms went limp, I looked up. His face was droopy, eyes lifeless. A killing curse must have rebounded off a mirror, it would have been quick, painless. He wouldn't have felt a thing.

"Wha..." I whispered, "No, no, no." His head lolled back and I realised I'm holding him up. His weight was too much. I lowered him to the ground. His heartbeat faded under my hand.

Upon the rock and dust and scorch marks he looked royal. His pale skin and hair stood out like fire in an endless ocean. He looked like a king on his throne, Hades perhaps - immortalized by some ghastly renaissance painting.

I realised, he's gone, for real this time. For real. I don't even realise I'm screaming until my throat burns rough, like sandpaper in my windpipe.

I sobbed into his chest unceasingly, my hands clutching at his shirt. In that second I know that life will never be the same. I will never be the same.

He will never laugh and kiss me again, never recite French so perfectly I can't believe we're not in the middle of Paris, never pass the fire-whiskey to me with a laugh after taking a gulp.

Never again. He's gone.

XxXxXx

Then I'm in the Great Hall and so is everyone else. I'm sat at the Hufflepuff table, blanket tucked around my shoulders.

The pain that burned like fire has now faded to an icy numbness. Inside me is this pit, right in the middle of my chest, a gaping, black, heavy hole sucking me in. It's pulling my soul into its depths and I don't care.

"Hermione? Hermione." A voice repeated. By his tone I could tell he's already said it several times. I looked up. It's Ron. He was flirting low-key all summer. I hadn't the heart to tell him I wasn't interested.

"What?" I asked, startled.

"What's wrong with you? Tonks brought you in here, I thought you were dead for a second."

"Tonks?" That's who brought me away. She didn't tell anyone, or at least Ron. Is that good?

"Yeah, Tonks. What happened?" Ron asked earnestly.

"He died." I murmured, losing myself for a moment.

"Who?"

I chuckled dryly. "If I told you, Ron, If I told you."

My eyes flicked up to Ron's face. As they do, I caught a flash of movement and white-blond hair. Faceless people are carrying _him_ on a stretcher, Tonks leading them. She sees me, and glances around worriedly.

I stand fluidly, moving forward on Auto-Pilot. The blanket falls from my shoulders, dropping onto the bloodstained floor.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted behind me, "Where are you going?!" His questions were fruitless, only answered by my retreating back.

I'm not sure what is happening, why the battle has ended, for now, at least.

They lay him down among the dead, sliding the stretcher from his back, leaving him on the floor. People muttered, why was a Death-Eater placed with the honorable?

I kneeled at his side, studying his face. I stayed there for a long moment, unmindful of the gossip and the stares. A rough hand grabbed my shoulder, I did not stop, did not acknowledge the new presence.

I reached out with a gentle hand, as if he was made of dust and shadows, pulling his paper-thin eyelids down, concealing his steel eyes from view.

I was carefully constructed, a numb snow queen in summer, running out of time.

"I think I always knew, — you definitely did — that this wasn't going to end well." The words were a prayer, floating like feathers to the floor.

A lone tear made a clean track though the dust on my cheek. "I'm sorry, Draco. This is my fault." I was definitely crying now, more and more tears slip quietly from my waterline. I didn't sob, or scream like I had earlier. But I mourned. And that's worse.

"You were always to good - or too bad - for this world. I'm not sure which. Depends on who you ask." My voice was barely a whisper, but I'm sure he heard me.

"Hermione, get up." It was Tonk's firm voice, breaking me from my reverie.

"Tonks? Why didn't you tell?" I asked, turning my tearful face to her.

"Hermione, " She warned, voice low and dangerous. " _Because_ " She stressed the word. "There is nothing to tell, you are a peer, mourning for the loss of a good soul forced into something bad."

I tried a smile, "I didn't think you were stupid, Tonks."

She took a breath, "I'm not, It's what the world must think."

"Wait," I murmured, Tonks pauses. turning to look back one last time. Something glimmered in his clenched hand, relaxed in death.

"Wait," I murmured, Tonks paused.

"What?" She snapped, angry at me. I could see why. I kept this secret, from everyone, Tonks was my friend and I kept this huge thing from her. She's handing it well, probably better than Ron or Harry would.

"His hand," I bent down to open it up. My breath caught, and tears once again began to flow seamlessly down my cheeks. Inside his hand — like a pearl inside an oyster — was a sparkling engagement ring.

A delicate silver band, topped with a flawlessly square cut diamond. Smaller diamonds surrounded the stone, some so small they're almost dust. It was beautiful, I loved it.

I examined the ring, turning it over. Inside the band was a careful inscription, "Jusqu'à la fin." He helped me learn French, all those sleepless nights in the Astronomy Tower.

"I didn't know. I didn't know." I repeated like a robot.

I collapsed to my knees once again, this time from pure exhaustion and shock and longing. This time Tonks let me.

"What does it mean?" Tonks asked from behind me.

"Until the end."

"He wasn't like they saw him, he was funny and sarcastic and _goddamn_ nice to be around." I covered my mouth with one hand, trying to muffle the dry, racking sobs that escaped my squeezed-shut windpipe all of a sudden.

"If he was such a kind soul, then why did he join the Death-Eaters?"

I thought for what seems like a long time, "It was his destiny, he had been trained since a child for it." I shrugged, "I'd like to think he was protecting me." I admitted, "But, maybe he just couldn't ditch that future, tell his father to piss off. He'd always had a set course in life, and not having one is scary."

"I think he was protecting you." She said softly, trying to comfort me, perhaps. the notion is funny to me, somehow.

I banish my laugh. "I can't go public, it would..." I breathed heavily, gulping in air, "We tried so hard to keep it secret."

"Why?"

His father mostly, if he knew, Draco would've been wanted for dead. Lucius is a cruel man, and if he found out... All hell would have broken loose." I said ruefully.

"Would..." she hesitated, "Draco, want that?"

I laughed dryly. "Oh Merlin, no, but the truth always comes out. No matter what."

"You think?"

"I know." I studied Tonks for a moment. Her hair was drawn back in a dull brown bun, her face pale and plain. Not like her. The war had taken more of a toll on her than I thought. She hid it well.

"Hermione. What are you doing?" Harry's confused voice floats over to my bubble of grief.

"Look," I said simply, swiveling my body, so he can see Draco's corpse.

 _I must not let him know. I must not let him know. I must not let him know._ I repeated the mantra inside my head, chanting it until it drowns out everything else.

"Bloody hell." Harry whispered, eyes wide. "I never thought to see him dead."

"Me neither." I choked out.

"He looks different."

"Free, he looks free." I answered for him. he really did though, that was the saddest thing. Harry glanced at me, indistinguishable emotion on his face.

"Why is he here? He's a Death-Eater." Harry gestured to the Malfoy's black robes.

I raced to come up with a plausible reason, "He died, trying to escape, to join the light side."

"Are you sure he wasn't trying to double agent us?"

"Yeah, I don't think he was," I held up the ring. Harry's jaw dropped.

"Oh Jesus," he stepped forward to peer at the proposal, "Who was it for?"

I cannot continue, luckily Tonks takes over before I blow it.

"We don't know." She interjected quickly.

"Ron says you were acting weird. What happened out there? Who died, Hermione?"

"Uh, No one, I was just referring to everything." I kept my voice sharp and straight.

Harry dropped the topic, reverting back to Draco. "Jesus, I guess the ferret could love after all."

"Yes. Yes he could." My voice cracked again. Harry looked at me suspiciously.

He let it slide, evidently chalking it up to stress, grief. "C'mon. We'll go congratulate Neville."

XxXxXxXx

And I do go, to congratulate Neville for-I'm-not-really-sure-what.

I live a life free from the blond-boy's embrace. I marry, I have children that aren't his. It takes me years to get over him, and I'm not sure I ever truly do. I'm happy, I suppose, with my new life. With Ron and Harry and red-haired children instead of blonde.

No-one ever learnt the truth, Tonks knew - of course. She was my guardian angel: covering me at gatherings, steering conversation away from the Death-Eaters, away from _him_.

I'm lucky. But every dream, every blonde-haired stranger sends me reeling back into the memories.

I know he'll be waiting. So am I, in a way.


End file.
